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[handleyourshit]

  


This is Rosita.  I'll hit you back when I can.

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[hippie_ninja]

"Rosita," he says softly, reaches out and touches her shoulder. "He cares about us. He might choose survival."

He can hope. He can let himself hope, in part because he knows Rosita can't.

[handleyourshit]

She doesn't shake him off, but she doesn't lean into him like she has been all day either. Doesn't look up from the message she's typing on the keypad.

"I know," she says, lightly, like it's nothing. "Get your boys. You got Vrenille, too?"

[hippie_ninja]

Something viciously protective uncoils in him and Carver had better show up, had better be there so Rosita never makes this face again.

"Yeah. Give me a couple of hours to get to all three of them."

[handleyourshit]

"I need to find Jacob and Dinah, too," she says, clearing her throat, easing more smoothly into business as usual. And isn't this business as usual?

Isn't assembling the troops and tying together a threadbare plan that relies mostly on grit business as usual?

"They won't come, but I need to talk to them, make sure there's nothing else I can do for them."

[hippie_ninja]

"Dinah might." He doesn't know Jacob well enough to say, but he knows Jacob has more responsibilities. He gulps down his drink, not wanting to waste it. He needs a drink anyway.

[handleyourshit]

"Maybe," she says, that same light tone, not allowing herself to get invested.

Jesus will be there. That's what she knows. The rest is all just details.

"Doesn't change our timeline though."

[hippie_ninja]

"Nothing changes the timeline," he agrees. Even if one of his people decides not to come along. Even if it ends up just being the two of them.

[handleyourshit]

Finally, she looks up.

She nods, and pushes up to her feet; three drinks, even stiff ones, aren't enough to show.

"Alright - I'll go now. Sooner we know, the better."

[hippie_ninja]

"Hey." He knows her doubts. He has them, too. But he looks at her, holds her gaze. "I'm with you. No matter what."

No matter who else comes, or doesn't.

[handleyourshit]

She smiles, but it's not a happy expression. She meets his eyes, and her lips curve, and her features don't shift otherwise.

"It means a lot," she says, uncharacteristically young. Then she clears her throat and promises, "I'll be back."